


I'd rather fight with you (than make love with anyone else)...

by startswithhope



Series: love me tender... [6]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Fights, Future Fic, Light Angst, M/M, Making Up, Mild Sexual Content, and kissing, and saying sorry is all you need to do to fix it, sometimes our worst fights are about nothing at all, that helps
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-18 13:00:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28867401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/startswithhope/pseuds/startswithhope
Summary: It had been a morning. A morning where they both woke up on the wrong side of the bed and somehow all the little quirks they’ve grown to love about the other turned into pinches and bruises and a pile of hurt feelings. Thinking back, he can’t even pinpoint the thing that set it all off, which is equally frustrating a huge relief. If he could remember, that would mean it was important.But it wasn’t. It was just...life.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Series: love me tender... [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2024738
Comments: 40
Kudos: 215





	I'd rather fight with you (than make love with anyone else)...

**Author's Note:**

> Hopefully this isn't too much of a mess. I just did a bit of free writing tonight and this is what happened, lol. From the intimacy prompts "kisses when they’re mad" and "a hand written note".

_I’m sorry. Love you._

Closing his eyes, he leans his head forward, letting it rest against the post-it stuck on the mirror in front of him with a sigh. It feels as cold as the kiss Patrick had left in that same spot a few hours earlier before he left to open the store.

It had been _a morning_. A morning where they both woke up on the wrong side of the bed and somehow all the little quirks they’ve grown to love about the other turned into pinches and bruises and a pile of hurt feelings. Thinking back, he can’t even pinpoint the thing that set it all off, which is equally frustrating and a huge relief. If he could remember, that would mean it was important.

But it wasn’t. It was just...life. Probably over 2000 days of life together at this point if he had the energy to do the math, but his coffee is just barely creeping into the corners of his headache and all he has the will to focus on right now is getting out the door so he can see his husband and apologize.

Leaning back from the mirror, he snags the post-it and finds a home for it inside the pages of his journal and makes his way downstairs to get to the store. It’ll be lunchtime by the time he gets there and he hopes to steal Patrick away while Connor manages the cash. He’s a little prickly with the customers, but he can merchandise almost better than David and has proven to be a good summer hire while he’s home from college. Or at least, the store hasn’t fallen apart or anything while they’ve left him in charge and that’s a step up from Alexis.

Pulling his Lincoln in next to Patrick’s car he takes a deep, somewhat shaky breath, and makes his way around to the front of the store. He wants to reach up and grab that fucking bell the second it chimes and his headache pings back to life, but then he sees Patrick and it’s like a blanket being thrown on top of a fire. 

He feels calm. And happy. And maybe a little bit nervous because they don’t really have blow ups like the one that occurred this morning and navigating what happens next isn’t something they have a lot of practice in yet. Patrick’s face is registering all of David’s emotions right back to him like a spotlight and he doesn’t even have to say anything before he hears his husband telling Connor that “You’ve got the store for about an hour. When we get back you can go on lunch.”

David doesn’t hear Connor’s response as he’s too focused on Patrick walking towards him with his hands deep in his pockets and eyes wide and full of many unasked questions. It’s in moments like this that it hits David fully just how different his life is now. How different Patrick is to everyone he’s ever known. There’s a confidence that’s built up inside of himself that just knows that Patrick’s in this, forever, and no matter what, he’s here to stay. And that knowledge gives David the courage to smile and hold out his hand and wait as his husband extricates one hand from the depths of his denim and weave his fingers between David’s as he’s led outside.

As soon as they’re at the back of the building David gives Patrick’s hand a tug and pulls him in for one of his octopus hugs, arms draping and wrapping as Patrick’s lips find their home against the side of David’s neck.

“I’m sorry, too.”

The words come out of his mouth on a long sigh and he can practically feel his spine crack in relief as he collapses even further into Patrick’s body.

“I know.”

“I love you.”

“I know that, too.”

David can’t quite figure out why this borderline placating tone Patrick’s using right now makes David want to pull him around the corner and do dirty things when this morning that same tone made David see bloody murder and snap at him like a rabid turtle. 

Best not to think about that too much and just kiss his husband instead.

Leaning back, he moves his hands to Patrick’s cheeks and tries to ignore the redness in Patrick’s eyes as he dips his head down for a kiss. The deep, immediate press of Patrick’s fingers into the small of his back and the way he sighs right into David’s mouth, it’s like stepping into a steaming bath after a long day. When Patrick takes a step back and David follows, the brick becomes their anchor as the pent up anger from earlier leaves them both in need of touch and assurance. Patrick’s tongue tastes like home and his body feels like safety and his hands are like the ocean, smoothing all of David’s jagged pieces the more they move.

“Wanna skip lunch and go home for a while?”

Patrick pulls back and nods, placing his fingers softly against David’s cheek.

“I don’t like the fact that the last thing we did in our bed was fight.”

“I know.”

If there was a stoplight in Schitt’s Creek, David would have run it, but thankfully, they get home without incident and make it up to their bedroom in record time. David practically cries with frustration when Patrick takes entirely too much time getting him out of his clothes, cries with gentle tears as Patrick readies him with confident reverence and cries Patrick’s name as he’s driven deep into their mattress with reckless need. 

Every little thing they fought about, whatever it was, dissipates along with their ragged breaths and hoarse declarations as they find their way back home in each other’s arms. 

Afterwards, with Patrick’s body draped over his like a rag-doll, their breathing finally finds a less chaotic rhythm and David’s able to speak.

“I’d rather fight with you than make love with anyone else.”

The look Patrick gives him when he lifts his head to look down at him tells David he’s been caught, but that amuses him and he does a poor job of hiding his smile.

“You know you can’t pull out lines from your romantic comedies if they’re ones you’ve made me watch ten times over.”

“Do you mean to tell me that you would be annoyed if I said that “ _I like you, very much, just as you are…_?”

“Oh, no, you can say that whenever you want.”

“Interesting. Does someone have a crush on Mark Darcy?”

“It’s the eyes.”

“He’s got nothing on you.”

Patrick’s nose scrunches a little at the compliment, but he lowers his head and kisses David’s lips and David thinks to himself how lucky he is that he finally found a nice boy who kisses like this.


End file.
